


Friendship and Loyalty

by Dalamarf16



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV), MCU, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Catholic Matt Murdock, Daredevil – Freeform, F/M, Family, Fever, Friendship, Hurt Matt Murdock, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Matt Murdock - Freeform, Matt needs a hug, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, claire fixing matt, claire temple - Freeform, dd, don't touch matt's family, emotional collapse, matt has to work with stick, matt murdock get hurt, matt murdock has an emotional collapse, sort of, stick, stick kidnapps foggy and karen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-04-11 01:37:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4416125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dalamarf16/pseuds/Dalamarf16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post season 1 - After they have taken down Fisk, Nelson & Murdock is having a very good moment: they have a lot of clients and they also get paid. Everything changes when Stick cames back into Matt's life, asking for his help. Will Daredevil accept to work again with him? Will he cross the line between punching people and killing them? -[updated weekly]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A day like any other.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work in Daredevil's fandom, and also my first work in English. I am italian and I really need to improve my skills, so, please, let me know what do you think about this!

Chapter 1: A morning like any other.  


  
It was a morning like any other.

Matt Murdock opened his eyes when he heard the wake-up call of his alarm-clock, and like every morning the world caught fire around him. He pushed the white button to turn it off and a metallic female voice  
informed him that was 7 a.m.

Time to get up.

He moved with usual attention to his body, but this time he didn't feel any pain. The night before he hadn't gone out for his usual patrol of Hell's Kitchen, so there were no fresh injuries to care about, but he realized that only some minutes later, when he stopped moving like an automaton and started to really wake up.

He got up and went to the bathroom; he really needed a shower.

The day before was one of those day you can't really define as "busy" or "chaotic" or "crazy". It was all those thing together and more. He, Karen and Foggy didn't really get a moment's peace.

Since they had managed to get Fisk and put him where he belonged, they had become really famous in Hell's Kitchen and their number of clients had gone up in a staggering way; and the real news was that some of them could really afford to pay them.

For the first time since Matt could remember (not counting the period in which they didn't speak to each other), he and Foggy had to work different cases on their own, with an outstanding Karen who did her best to help both of them and at the same time took care of the potential clients waiting for their moment.

As result, they barely had anything for lunch and went home after midnight.

Matt stood near the window for some time, listening the voices of the city, trying to figure out if someone needed his help.

When nothing came up, he gave a sigh of relief, let himself fall on his bed and fell asleep still wearing his work suit.

When he got home last night, he had considered changing from those clothes to the Daredevil ones directly, and after he resolved to not go out, his body and his mind didn't have the strength to change his outfit for more comfortable sweatpants and t-shirt.

-Foggy. Foggy. Foggy. Foggy. Foggy...-

He had just taken the first step into the bathroom when his phone began to ring, saying the name of the one who was calling him.

Matt sighed and went back to the kitchen where he had left it. If the caller had been Karen, he would have left it to ring and called her later, but it was Foggy, and since he had discovered his secret, morning calls had become a sort of habit. His partner phoned him just to check if Matt had reached home safe enough to call Claire to stitch him up.

If Matt hadn't picked up, his best friend would probably have run to his place to check if he was ok, and he didn't want him to worry, so he answered the phone as fast as he could.

-Hey, buddy. Are you ok? It took you a long time to pick up...-

Matt couldn't avoid smiling. Foggy's concern had always moved him, even if his friend never treated him like he was made of glass, and that was also one of the reasons that led to not telling him about his second job.

-Yeah- he answered -I'm ok. I was having a shower-

-Oh. Sorry. But... are you ok? I mean... you know-

-Yeah. Last night I stayed at home-

-Really?- even someone who wasn't blind could hear the relief in his partner's voice.

-Too tired-

-So...see you at the office?-

-Yeah. Leave me a donut.-

Matt hung up the phone and finally managed to reach the shower. He changed the suit and went directly to the "Nelson & Murdock" main (not to mention only) office.

When he arrived at the office, after he had paid the cab he took from the apartment to his work place, he saw with relief that no clients had shown up yet. Foggy and Karen were already there and they were waiting for him so they could have breakfast together.

It was a habit started by Foggy the moment they started to talk to each other again after the fight they had about the discovery of Daredevil's true identity. Just like the regular phone calls.

Matt wasn't bothered about the new routine.

The weeks he had passed without Foggy were the worse since his father's death. Foggy wasn't just his best friend, or his partner at work. 

When he almost lost him because of his second job, at the beginning he thought he could manage to take care of himself alone, but soon he began to miss his useless chats, his way of non-stop complaining about, well, basically everything.

It was the complete opposite to his own way of life.

Since he had lost his sight, when the other senses had increased their intensity, he had gradually begun to only speak if it was absolutely necessary. Everything was so loud around him that he didn't feel the need to add more noise to the noise; besides, he wasn't someone who liked to have company.

As a kid, even before his dad's death, he didn't have many friends. At school he spent all the time studying or doing his homework. His father wanted him to be a good student and build for himself a better future than he had, and Matt spent all his time trying to do that for Jack, to make his father proud of him. In the afternoon he used to go with his dad to the gym, where both worked for a better life, with opposite methods. After the accident, being blind was reason enough to be excluded from the social life of his schoolmates, but he didn't really complain about that. His teachers used to say that he looked and acted much older than an 8 years old boy, maybe because he always had to help his father work things out with the money that Jack earned from his fighting, and that wasn't simple sometimes. As a result, Matt didn't wear expensive clothes, and didn't go to other kids' birthday parties, because often he didn't have the money to buy them a present.

So, in a certain way, being blind made things easier on that point of view.

He focused even more than before on his books and when his father died things simply got even worse. His senses began to increase, and after Jack had gone, being alone in a children's home, full of noise. Everything was simply in chaos and he really thought he would go mad.

Even in the church, or in the little chapel of the orphanage, he couldn't find peace. It was like when his dad died, some kind of shield had fallen, allowing the rest of the world to reach him all at once, forcing him to stay in his bedroom, his hands covering ears, in a desperate attempt to deaden sounds around him.

Then Stick stepped in Matt's life, just to leave him when he started to consider him like family.

But Stick didn't want a son. He wanted a soldier, ready to kill on his orders. Matt would never be like that. His mentor had understood that values of the Catholic religion and the education Jack Murdock had given to him were strong inside the young boy and so he decided to let him alone again.

Since that moment Matt convinced himself that he would pass the rest of his life alone, and years had passed. He grew up, but he couldn't manage to have a stable relationship with an other human (or animal) being. He had tried with a dog, but it didn't suit him.

Then, that day, his first in college, a computer mistake made him meet a weird guy who was trying to enter a Punjabi course just because he had a crush for a girl.

He had asked for a single room, because he didn't want people feel sad for him or (worse) treat him like something delicate. He had hated that ever since he was a kid.

Foggy was different and soon Matt had discovered the warm of a real friendship and since then they had become inseparable. Finally he had a family again, and he had almost lost everything all over again because of something he did.

The night after the fight, he felt so guilty and in pain that he couldn't eat without throwing up and the following days were terrible.  
He went to the office only late in the night, often after his patrol in Hell's Kitchen, when he knew Foggy wasn't there (Karen sometimes was, but he had no problem with her), and used the day to sleep and recover after being the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.

Everything seemed to go the right way, even without his best friend (after all, he still had Karen), but he felt so lonely that he wanted to cry out in joy when, after Ben's funeral, Foggy went to him and they decided to move on, trying to rebuild their friendship and to take down Fisk.

Morning calls and breakfast were part of their new friendship, but Matt didn't care. He would accept everything if the reward was having his family back.

-You're late- Karen said as a morning greeting

-Sorry-

-We're hungry, man! Get up earlier next time!- protested Foggy, but Matt could perceive his friend's smile behind that.

-Yeah. I bet you ate at least two or three donuts before even arriving here!-

-No way!-

-Four?-

-Screw you, Murdock!-

But he was already laughing, and Matt sensed from his breath he really had eaten them, two, or maybe three. He smelled strawberry, chocolate, and maybe custard and... was that Marci's perfume?

He smiled and took the donut and cup of coffee Karen was offering him with a smile and a soft "thank you". He really needed coffee to wake up.

-What's the agenda today?- Foggy asked Karen suddenly, his mouth half full of his breakfast.

-Don't know yet- she answered -but you have to be in court at 4 p.m. for the kid who's being charged for some money stolen from an old woman outside the bank.-

Foggy nodded. That was an easy case, because at the time of the robbery, it had shown that he was having a test in school, so he was definitely innocent.

Like they had foreseen in the morning, the judge decided to drop charges against Peter and the two partners came back to their office in a very good mood. They didn't have any other cases for that day, and it was almost dark outside, so Foggy dismissed Karen for the rest of the day.

-So?- asked Foggy

-So what?-

-Last night-

-I told you. I stayed at home. We left the office after midnight, remember? I was so tired I feel asleep still wearing my suit-

-Which one?-

-Are you serious?-

-I can't feel your heartbeat, remember? How do I know if you are telling me the truth?-

Again? Seriously? Matt sighed. He could understand Foggy's concern about Daredevil, and even that he felt betrayed, but he really couldn't get why he continued to question everything he said to him.

I lied once, to protect him and Karen, and almost lost him.

He would never make the same mistake again.

-Why should I lie to you?-

-Because you care about him, kid-

Matt froze.  



	2. I am not going anywhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who is the new visitor? There will be trouble with Nelson&Murdock?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone so subscribed and left a Kudo!  
> I hope you'll like this and you will let me know about it somehow!

_**CHAPTER 2: I Am Not Going Anywhere.** _

Until that moment, Foggy had thought he knew every side of Matt Murdock, but he wasn't prepared to see him frozen like that.

He didn't have Matt's superpower of feeling alterations in human figures, but he could clearly perceive a sudden tightness in his friend's body, and he saw his face loose one or two shades of pink.

Almost like a soldier in front of his superior officer, Matt suddenly stood up, straightening his shoulders and back in tension.

He grabbed his stick and held it tight, as if he might have to use it as a weapon at any second, or, Foggy thought, as if he needed it to keep something under control.

He hadn't seen Matt like this before; he always managed to stay calm, to control his emotions, his fears, but now he couldn't do that at all. His fingers kept moving on the surface of the handle of his stick and he could swear his best friend was slightly shaking for a moment, before he managed to dominate his instinct.

Whomever this voice was, he had the capability to scare Matt to death. That definitely couldn't be good news.

-Matt? Are you okay?- he asked in a soft voice, just when an old man stepped into the office, leaning on a stick. A white and red stick.

A blind old man. Matt acting like that.

-Stick- was the only thing Foggy was able to say, barely moving his lips.

*******

-Your friend is smart- The sound of Stick's voice, no more mitigated by walls and Foggy's increasing heartbeat made Matt react to what was happening.

He forced himself to completely control his body; he made an extraordinary effort to make himself stop trembling with fear. He wasn't scared for himself, he could manage his mentor, but he didn't want to do that in front of his partner. He held his stick, ready to face the old man.

-Foggy. Go home- he ordered, and he noticed that his voice came out tense and hoarse.

The sudden appearance of Stick in his life for the second time in a couple of months had shocked him, especially because this time he had shown up here, in his office, where his friends were. Matt knew what the message was behind Stick's gesture; if he could figure out the Devil's real identity and find where he worked, the enemy could too.

-No way-

-Foggy....-

-I am not going anywhere, Matt-

-You really think you can do something against me, mister Nelson?- Stick asked, interrupting the dialogue between the two of them, a little irony in his voice.

Hearing his best friend's surname made Matt shiver with fear.

Stick knew.

Matt understood suddenly that if Stick wanted him to be a soldier, a lonely vigilante who didn't really care about other people's lives, he could have Foggy and Karen killed, or, worse kill them himself. He felt the panic grow inside his chest. _Calm down, Matt. Calm down._

He tried desperately to wipe away the images of Karen and Foggy's dead bodies that his brain created from nothing, covered in blood, their eyes open and empty of their souls, but it wasn't simple. He never saw their faces, what he knew about their features was what they had told him about themselves, but despite this, they appeared as clear as if he was actually able to see a photo taken by Forensics.

Matt could actually see Karen's long, blonde hair spread on the floor of the office, a hole in her forehead, and, on her side, Foggy's slightly overweight body (as he described himself) fatally wounded by knives, his right hand still holding their secretary left. His partner died slowly and in a lot of pain by Stick's hand.

Matt barely accepted Ben's death, he couldn't stand something like that again.

Not his fault, again.

He barely resisted the temptation to shake his head, to throw that mental picture away.

Stick knew that if anything could make him cross the line between punching people and killing them, that could really be Foggy's murder, and Matt knew his mentor knew that as well. And the lawyer was also aware that if he really wanted, the old man would do it without a second's thought.

He had tried to train Matt the same way, but his father's teachings were so deep-rooted inside of him, and his faith in religion so strong, that Stick fortunately couldn't subjugate him.

-Maybe not- answered Foggy, stubborn despite his voice shaking a little, making Matt come back to reality -but I am not leaving Matt alone with you-

-Foggy, please... - the young blind man began to speak, but he couldn't finish the sentence.

-So, Matty has told you about his little secret- Stick interrupted him, and, like he was a kid again, he shoot his mouth up, his hand pinching his stick until his knuckle turned white for fear and anger. After almost twenty years, this man manage to overcome him without making a single nod.

This sense of powerless in front of him, drove him crazy. He was a grown up man, so why couldn't face him?

He pick up all his courage to speak and bring Stick's attention on him, making a step to place himself between Foggy and Stick.

-What do you want, Stick? I've already told you; stay out of my city- _And away from my family_ , he thought, but wasn't brave enough to say out-loud. Besides, from his movements and the position he had taken, he knew his former coach would have noticed that his priority was to protect his partner.

Stick still had a lot of power over him, as always, but this time was different; Foggy's life was on the line, his worse nightmare becoming true and he wouldn't allow to his awe to paralyse him.

-And I've told you family is a weakness, kid-

-Yeah, and I've ignored you- _After I've listened to you and failed_ , he told himself, but that wasn't the time to point that out.

-So did I-

-Get out of Hell's Kitchen-

-Or what? You'll kill me, kid?- Stick paused -Oh, I forgot. You can't kill. You still are a kid, after all-

-Killing is not the solution- suddenly Foggy spoke again, and his voice was like a flash in a dark, clear night.

-Foggy, please. Stay out of this- Matt stopped him, and something broke in him, as if Foggy's voice had interrupted his concentration. Suddenly he wasn't able to have full control of his body, he began to tremble again, when the image of his best friend dead came back to his mind

*******

-Matt...- when he noticed Matt was shaking, he stopped talking, struck dumb by the sudden changing of behaviour in his partner.

He had seen him angry, hitting a punchbag with all his strength when he went to see him at the gym after missing Ben's funeral; he had discovered his weak side when he was ill, many years ago, when they were roommates in college (he still could remember as it happened yesterday, his friend lying in bed, hands over his ears, almost crying in pain.

Now he knew it was because the headache and fever prevented him from focusing and cutting out the rest of the world, but still, it was something you couldn't really forget), but he had never thought Matt could be terrified by anything or anyone.

He had always seen him like a man without fear, who faced the world (and God, maybe, but he would never say that in front of him) who took his sight away to stop him from doing... well, everything.

Right now, Matt was completely in a panic, Foggy could feel it, and for him that was enough.

Until a moment ago he had seemed calm, but now he was really upset, like if this man had done some mental Jedi mind trick to him. After he discovered the whole "world in fire" thing, and the incident of New York he began to think that everything was possible.

Foggy had never, never, seen his friend in this way, and all he wanted was to put his hand on his shoulder and make him feel he was with him and that he had full trust, but he also understood that something like that could sentence him to death, so he forced himself to stay still, staring at Matt's back, praying for him to be safe.

-I'm not going to cross that line, Stick, you know- Matt was saying, his voice now was strong, like he was using his fear to find the strength to face his old mentor.

All that Foggy could do was take a step closer to his best friend, trying to support him without touching him or talking. He knew Matt would hear his movements, but he also hoped he'd understand. Probably he did, because the blond attorney saw the blind man's fingers relaxing imperceptibly around the stick, while he made a step to the right to be a complete wall between him and that old man.

-You can't save shit this way, kid! There are people who simply deserve to die-

-No one deserves to die-

-Stop being an altar boy, kid! This is real life. You are a warrior and warriors kill-

-What do you want from me?- Matt asked again, stopping a discussion that wouldn't lead anywhere.

-You. I need a soldier-

-Find someone else-

-Matt...- the blind man tried to make one last attempt to convince him.

-Get out, Stick- Matt's tone was categorical.

-You'll regret this, kid- And without another word, the blind old man took his stick and went out, disappearing in the night, leaving a shaking, silent Matt in the center of his office.

*******

A second later it was like someone had hit Matt with a taser.

He suddenly began to move fast.

The taser was Stick's last words.

Basically, he told him he would accept to help him, one way or another, and he really didn't want him to use the bad ones.

-Foggy- he said while he started to collect his things -Take Karen with you and go away for a while-

-Matt...-

-There's no time- the blind man kept talking like Foggy wasn't really there -You have to move. No plane, possibly no train. Use the bus. Or take a cab-

-Matt.-

-Don't worry about the money, I'll take care of that as soon as I can. I'll pay you everything...-

-MATT!- Now Foggy was basically screaming, trying to make his way into his friend's fear. The scream finally reached its goal, and the young lawyer stopped, watching his friend where he knew his face was, still trembling.

-Fog- he began, trying to stay calm when all he wanted was to take Foggy and Karen and put them on a cab, without even allowing them the time to take some clothes -There isn't much time-

-I am not going anywhere, Matt- he murmured quietly, staring the Devil of Hell's Kitchen right in his blind eyes, hidden behind a pair of red glasses. That simple phrase was enough to stop him doing a million different things at the same time.

-You heard him-

-Yes. I did. And you listen to me, right now, Daredevil; I. Am. Not. Going. Anywhere. Understood?-

-You can't stay, Foggy. He will kill you just to make me became what he wants-

-And?-

-Don't you get the point?-

-Not really-

-He knows who you are, probably also where you live. You are in danger- Matt explained, trying not to raise his voice against him.

-I repeat: and?- Matt sighed, at the end of his tether. He always thought Foggy was smart, but now he was acting like a stupid child or, he realized with a bit of fun, like he couldn't see the reality surrounding him.

-Are you even listening to me?-

-I am, Matt. I am. It's the same, old story; you go out in the night, punching people, and if they discover who you are, we are all dead. Understood. But it doesn't change anything. I'm standing here, at your side, saving your ass-

-Risking your own life- Matt finished the sentence instead of his partner. -Not with you next to me, right?- He felt Foggy's grin, and couldn't do anything but smile, with tears in his eyes, hidden behind his glasses.

He had always known his friend was loyal to him, he had proved himself a thousand times during college, refraining from going to some parties to stay with him, or reading whole books for him, recording his voice for him, whenever he couldn't find a Braille written version, but he couldn't have even imagined trusting him literally with his life.

-I'll keep you safe- promised Matt, his voice broken.

-I know you will, Daredevil- Foggy answered finally able to put his hands over Matt's shoulders and squeezing them slightly to let him know he could rely on him.

What Foggy didn't know, was that there was only a way to keep his promise: do what Stick wanted, even if it would lead him directly to lose his soul.

Foggy was worth it.


	3. Deal?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt Murdock had to die, at least for now.  
> I'm sorry, Foggy. Please, don't hate me. He left his phone, still on, on the couch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank to everyone who had read this so far. I know the beginning wasn't so good, but I promise, from the next chapter things are going to get serious

-Finally! Time for dinner! Are you coming, Matt?-

Foggy got up from the chair behind the desk of Matt's office which the two of them were sharing to work on a new case. It was something they used to do since they had become associates at Landman and Zack.

They used to sit together reading documents and searching info on the internet, talking about what they had found and doing a sort of brainstorming to came up with a possible strategy. It was around 10 pm, not exactly the right time for a full dinner, but Stick's visit had shocked both of them, and Foggy couldn't manage to calm down by himself, so Matt had thought that it might be more useful for his friend to begin to work on their new client's requests instead of going home and only to keep thinking about what happened. Besides, if Foggy was with him, he could protect him.

-Yeah. I'm coming- Matt tried not to think that it could be one of the last meals he would have with his best friend. He had no idea of the intentions of his old mentor, but he was sure that if he really wanted his help, he would find a way to use him.

As always.

Every time the lawyer thought about it, anger and frustration rose in him, making him wish he wasn't so weak. _Your family his your weakness_.He almost could hear Stick's voice in his head, telling him not to be such a mawkish pussy. He shook his head to clear his mind. He had to stay lucid and think.

-Are you ok, buddy?- Foggy asked for the hundredth time, not without reason.

He was aware that he'd been probably the most terrible company that day, but his brain was working really hard to find a way out.

However, deep down, he knew that there was only one thing to do in order to save his friends.

He didn't dare to ask more about the blind man than what Matt had said to him, but he couldn't really stop asking him if he could handle the situation, and the brown-haired lawyer couldn't blame Foggy for that.

-I'm ok- he replied, then he decided to clarify, knowing that Foggy wouldn't stop caring about him. (Probably he wouldn't anyway, but it was worth a try) -Stick is... was an important part of my past. Without him teaching me I would probably have been driven mad, but he wants me to be his soldier, to be completely focus on this war he thinks is going on...-

-He wants you to be a killer, too?- Foggy interrupted him, probably for the first time since their fight. He usually let him talk and then he asked questions, when he needed to understand something better. This wasn't the case. Matt understood he was probably scared to death, behind this kind of mask of a concerned friend he was trying to keep on his face, successfully, at least for now.

-Probably- he started, then he rectified himself, choosing to be completely honest - Yes. He wants me cross that line-

-Can he?- Matt could clearly hear his friend's fear, right now.

The mask had fallen apart, revealing a really nervous and terrified Foggy. The blind man found himself strongly moved by the show of concern. He always considered his partner like family, because he was the only one he had in his life, but so far he hadn't fully realized that it was the same for Foggy.

That made things more difficult for him, and, for a second, his resolution had shaken.

_You can't go back, Murdock_. He told to himself, his inner voice so similar to Stick's it was annoying. _It's for his safety_. -What?- he asked.

-Make you do that-

-I don't think so- _If only I could be as certain as I sound.._.

-And what about... I mean.. you almost killed Fisk after Miss Cardenas' death...what if he can push some button and make you become a killer?- Nothing to say about that. Foggy was a damn good lawyer. He knew exactly what to ask and when. Like right now.

_You mean what if he touches you or Karen...or Claire?_ He thought, but he buried his fear under the menu of the small restaurant Foggy had taken him to, pretending he could actually see it.

-Matt?-

-What?-

-You can really read it?-

-Not at all- he admitted, and at the same time he cursed himself. That was a rookie mistake. Now Foggy would know that he had something else in his mind -I was just... - he tried to save himself, to prevent Foggy from knowing he had already decided what to do. -overthinking-

-About Stick?- He nodded, a sad smile on his face. He was trying so hard enjoy the night, to focus on Foggy, to joke and eat with him as usual, but his heart refused to support him.

He really, really wanted to change the subject of the conversation, but, again, his soul had decided for him, and he found himself talking about his time at the asylum and about Stick finding him. -You know... when he came to the orphanage, the very first time, I was going crazy. All those noises around me, they were overwhelming me...-

-He saved you?-

-In his own way...yes. He did. Then he left me.- he couldn't avoid his tone becoming bitter when he began to explain why his mentor left him.He'd realized in that moment that for all those years, he had felt guilty about that; that if he hadn't given him that stupid piece of paper he'd never have abandoned him. He could have been a good soldier, or pretended to be one, just to have someone who cared about him. -For a bracelet-

-For what?- And Matt told him the truth about the months he spent with Stick, training himself and becoming stronger everyday and also how the man had left him when he had dared to make him that little present.

Then something, while he was still talking, something had happened in his mind.

In that moment, he really understood that Stick no longer had any influence over him. All that fear, the awe for him, they were all in his head, but they had no more reason to exist. He was no longer the lonely kid Stick had found at the orphanage. He did it. Even without Stick. He found Foggy, Karen, Claire, even Mrs. Cardenas.

Everything Matt would decide, he would do it for the safety of his family, not down to fear of Stick. He was a grown man , and that old blind guy would never control him again. He suddenly felt quite stupid for the panic attack he had experienced when the man had shown up earlier.

*******

Foggy was really impressed. Although he and Matt had been friends since the first time they'd met, and Matt basically knew everything about his partner's family, he had never spoken too much about his past willingly, and Foggy had never insisted on that either. For him, it was really easy to talk about his happy childhood and how much his mother wanted for him to be a butcher, and because of that, he could barely imagine the pain Matt had suffered, so he never asked any questions, even if he had always been ready to listen to him and comfort him any time he needed.

Sometimes the blind guy had told him about his father, or, once or maybe twice, about the time he had spent in the orphanage, but he never had gone into as much depth as he was doing right now, and the blond lawyer didn't exactly know how to feel about that.

He felt somehow honoured by this sudden confession, but he was also asking himself why Matt was saying all this just now. Was Matt thinking of doing something stupid?

_Shut up, you paranoid!_ He told himself. _He's just sharing a part of his life he couldn't tell you before because of his secret. Probably he's just getting everything off his chest. Now, be a good friend, shut up and listen to him_.

This time, he didn't need his best friend's superpowers to feel how painful it had been for him, how for a moment he had thought, or better, hoped, with all his heart, he had found someone who could actually replace his father, just to find out that the man had never really cared about him. He felt, now more than ever, a real distance between the two of them. They were both born and raised in Hell's Kitchen, and their paths eventually met that day at the Columbia University, but their lives before that were totally different. He wondered how they had ended up in such a friendship.

-Man...- was the only word he could say, barely able to look Matt in his blind eyes.

-You know? He kept it. The bracelet-

-He did?-

-Yeah. I found it the night we fought at my place- Foggy didn't really know what to say about that. Some bell, in his head, was saying to him Stick had planned everything.

Everyone who could spend some time with Matt Murdock knew how emotional that guy was. He was silent, you could say even shy, but he was led almost only by his feelings, and that had put him in trouble more times than Foggy could remember. So, if this Stick was dangerous and cruel as Matt was saying, he could easily have let the bracelet drop to make him think he cared about him.

-What do you want to say?- Damn Murdock and his superpowers.

-Nothing you wanna hear-

-Try me-

-Nope-

-Foggy...-

-Shut up, Matt. I'd really want to say what I am thinking, but it'd probably lead to a fight, so I'm going to keep my mouth shout- Matt sighed, but also gave a little smile. They ate quietly and then they separated to go to their own homes.

*******

-Are you going to join me or not?-

For the first time in his adult life, Matt jumped out of his skin .

He had been home for about an hour, and he hadn't noticed Stick's presence until he made himself apparent. When he had spoken, the young man was barely awake, completely unaware Stick was in the apartment. He sat up immediately, almost trapped in his own sheets. He heard his heart running fast, and he concentrated on calming himself down. He had to stay calm, and go ahead with the plan he had come up with just before going to bed.

_You can do this_. He told himself. _Your mind controls your body, and you are no longer the scared kid you were twenty years ago_. He didn't really want to talk to him, but he forced himself to.

Matt got up, throwing his white sheets away and faced his former mentor man to man. For a moment, he had thought he could pretend to be the same, scared guy Stick'd met at "Nelson & Murdock", but he soon realized it wasn't possible. Stick had taught him how to recognize humans' emotions and feelings by listening to their heartbeats. He could manage to fake with regular people, even with Foggy sometimes, but he had no chance with the old man, so he didn't even try to do that.

_Let's let Stick know I am following him because of people I care about. Let's show him family can also be source of strength_.

-Yes- he answered without a hint of kindness in his voice -but we make a deal. Here and now. Forever. I'll do whatever you want. You stay away from my family-

-Your family? Oh, Matty, Matty... you still believe you can have one?-

Matt ignored him. He didn't care what the old man thought. It was his own life.

-Deal?- He asked in the same cold voice.

-Deal-

-What's the plan?-

-We are leaving, kid. Right now. Take your cane and leave everything behind-

Matt felt his heart suddenly heavy. He had thought that something like this could happen, obviously (and for his friends' sakes, it was even the best thing) but he felt sick anyway.

_He is no longer controlling you_. He reminded to himself, just to be sure. _You are doing this for your family. You will come back, and you will not cross that line_. And this time, his inner voice sounded more like a mash-up between the ones of all the people he cared about.

He felt a little smile reaching his face, but he forced himself to to stay serious.

Matt Murdock had to die, at least for now, he knew that. He perfectly knew he was going to break Foggy's heart (again), but he couldn't do anything else. He wished he had seriously calculated the possibility of leaving, he wished he had left a message, or something for them at the office, but he hadn't had, and now it was too late. _I'm sorry, Foggy. Please, don't hate me_. He left his phone, still on, on the couch and followed his mentor.


	4. Please, don't be stupid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Foggy finds out Matt is missing. Matt starts working with Stick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your reading!

Foggy opened his eyes the next morning, finding himself in a bed that he didn't recognize as his own.

-Good morning sunshine- A very sweet female voice brought a smile to his face, while memories from the night before came to mind. He had been on some kind of date with Marci (if "come to me and do as I say" could be considered a date).

-'Morning- he answered still lying on the bed.

-It's almost eleven. Time to get up- Marci told him with a smile and a cup of coffee in her hands.

-Is that for me?-

-No way. Yours is waiting for you in the kitchen-

-Mm...ok. Wait...eleven? Why didn't you wake me up?-

-I would have but you were sleeping like a baby. You were so cute-

_Matt!_

As soon as his brain got connected with the world, memories of the night before had come up to his mind, reminding him to what happened, and, basically, why he had accepted playing a reversed mode of 50 shades of Grey; not that he had read it. Not a chance, but he had woken up in Marci's place suggesting an interesting turn of events.

Foggy stopped listening to her and turned himself toward the night table next to his side of the woman's bed, searching for his phone.

After the dinner with Matt, Foggy had thought about going home and taking a full night of rest after the two days that had passed, with the clients and the visit of that Stick guy, but as soon as he had found himself alone in his house, his mind had begun to show him lot of different images of Matt getting himself in trouble, or worse, getting killed; or again, being forced to kill someone because of that damn blind old man.

He had begun to pace in his own home like a lion in a cage, more worried than he had ever been for his best friend.

A couple of times he had picked up his phone and begun to search for Matt's number before stopping and reminding himself that his friend could take care of himself and also that he could do nothing useful to help him with his nocturnal activities.

So he had gone to bed and tried to get some sleep.

When he realised that was not going to happen, and he'd decided to call Marci for some company. He hadn't exactly meant that kind of company but he was not really going to complain about the two of them having some sex together to forget their problems, even if, right now, he was feeling a little bit guilty about how he had, as a matter of fact, almost used her (or had she used him? He couldn't really tell for sure because as a matter of fact, she had been in charge during the night, since his call, actually, but anyway, he had liked it, mostly because he didn't have to think too much).

-What's up, Foggy Bear?- Marci asked when she saw him searching for his phone as if his life had depended on it, which in the long run, it might. He hated that damn nickname she had found for him when they used to date in college, but right now he had more important things to do than complain about it.

-I have to call Matt- he answered, still looking for his device. He finally found it inside one of his shoes (and he refused to consider how in hell's name it had arrived there).

-Again? I have to ask. Are you two having an affair?-

-What?-

-You two are getting weird lately: morning calls, you always thinking about him... you know. Those kind of weird things...-

-I'm just worried- Foggy tried to defend himself -He's blind-

-That's not something new- Foggy began to sweat. She was a damn good lawyer, better than him. He had to find a way out, but he didn't see anything that could help.

-Lately he's been...distracted- he tried -He often falls down, so I'm just worried about him-

-That's very kind of you- Had she believed that? Foggy tried not to sigh in relief. He'd also seen a way to get out of her apartment.

-Yeah... listen, I'm very late and he Karen are probably gonna kill me... so...-

-... you have to go. Understood- she ended quietly, and that made Foggy feeling even worse. She'd lost her job trying to help him, and she couldn't find anything else so far. He could feel the sadness and maybe a little of envy in her voice, and, not for the first time, he really wished they could hire her at their firm, and he knew Matt and Karen did too.

She'd lost everything because of them, and now they could do nothing to help her.

That was really frustrating for all of them, but mostly for Foggy. They were in some sort of relationship, and he felt really bad about what was happening to her. Unfortunately, she was used to being very well paid, not that she didn't deserve it, she was the best in their class, except for Matt. No, wait. She was probably even better than him, only because she had decided to sell her soul and that was a step his best friend didn't want to cross, even in his day job. Meanwhile, they could barely afford to pay Karen, and that was only because she had accepted not being paid very much and maybe not exactly every month.

So he stayed near to the door, one hand on the doorknob, not knowing exactly how to respond to that.

-You'll find something- he took a step away from the door towards her. He took her hands into his owns and looked her in the eyes -I'm sure. You're a damn good lawyer-

-Who gave classified information to the enemy...-

-...in order to take down a killer who was going to tear Hell's Kitchen apart to pursue his project. That was the right thing to do, Marci-

-Yeah. I know- Was that regret in her voice? Regret? Marci? Inconceivable!

-We can hire you, if you want.- he offered, half serious, half joking -The only problem is that we can't pay you, but if you are ok with that, you're in- Marci laughed at that strange job offer, but Foggy already knew he wouldn't accept that. She was a good person, but she was a lawyer basically for money. She was a shark, a shark with a soul, but still a shark nonetheless.

-I'm sure you will find out a way to pay me without money- she answered with a mischievous smile on her face -but I have bills to pay, Foggy Bear- Foggy smiled and kissed her again.

-Then I'm going to help you find a new job. I promise-

-Go- she said to him, still smiling -They're waiting for you-

He nodded and left her home. While he was on the street, walking to "Nelson & Murdock", he finally turned on his phone.

He had like twenty missed calls, and all of them were from Karen. Nothing from Matt.

_God, she is really gonna kill me_.

When he opened the door of their office, all he got as greeting was a beautiful, but absolutely furious Karen Page yelling at him.

-Finally! Where were you, Foggy? And where in the hell is Matt? I had to send away two clients because neither one of you two were here!-

_She is going to kill me. Slowly and painfully_. How could happen that such a beautiful woman could also be one of the scariest in the world? And why were Matt and Foggy so talented when it came to pissing her off? Foggy hadn't found an explanation for that, yet

-Sorry- he tried to apologize, attempting that sad puppy gaze Matt was so good at (failing, of course. Matt was the puppy guy, not him) -I overslept-

_Wait._

-Where's Matt?- he asked, suddenly in fear, all his fantasies about how Karen would kill him and how painfully she would do so thrown away in a rush.

Matt wasn't in the office.

_Calm down, Foggy. Maybe he's just overslept like you. Don't be paranoid._

-I hoped you'd know! I've tried to call him at least fifteen times, but he hasn't answered- she told him in a rough voice, then she ran a hand through her long, blonde hair, while her face moved from anger to concern. -I'm starting to get a little worried about him-

This wasn't the first time Matt hadn't answered his phone in the morning, but since the revelation, Foggy usually knew the real cause of his absence, but not this time.

Better than that, he was hoping that his friend were at home, even hurt or bloodied, but at home.

And he didn't even feel sick for wishing pain to him. _Please, Matt, be in so much pain you can't move, please don't be dead_.

-Did he say something to you?- she asked him, bringing him back to reality.

-I haven't seen or heard from him since last night- he was forced to admit, trying to control his own fear to reassure her -I'm sure he's met some woman and got overslept too-

-Yeah. Maybe- Was that sadness in her voice? -Listen. You stay here, I'll go to his place, ok?- She nodded, and he left the office.

_Murdock, tell me you haven't done something really stupid, like joining that Stick guy. Please_.

It was almost 12am, so Foggy decided to take the subway instead of getting stuck in traffic.

When he finally reached his best friend's house, he ran over the stairs as if his life was in danger.

He began to knock, or better, to punch with all his strength on the door.

-Matt!- he cried while searching for the keys Matt'd given to him (well, actually Foggy had forced him to give) -Are you in there? Are you ok?- He didn't really wait for the answer. He used the key and opened the door.

_Please be on the floor half dead. Please be here_.

-Matt?- he called out several times, low at first, then louder. But the house seemed empty, without any sign of his friend or of potential injuries. No blood, no painkillers.

Then he saw the phone left on the couch, and he was caught by a rush of anger. He took it and literally smashed it against the wall. -Dammit Murdock!- He'd done it.

*******

-Wake up, kid!- A wave of icy water fell on him, giving him a rude awakening.

He tried to get up, trembling with the cold, but Stick kicked him back against the pillow.

Matt wasn't ready and took the shot with a groan that was a mixture between pain and surprise. Not that he hadn't expected some punishment after the way he had acted the night before, but nothing so sudden as that wake-up call.

-Wha...- this time he "saw" the attack coming and was able to avoid him jumping out of the bed with a spin.

-New rule, kid- Stick said in an angry voice, hitting him again, his movements too fast for a still half-asleep Matthew -When I decide to do something, you don't interfere! Am I understood?-

-You were going to kill that girl! She was innocent!-

-She saw you!-

-Yeah, she saw a man wearing a black mask. So what? She couldn't have recognized me!-

Stick hit him again in his stomach, then he used his body to block him on the ground in a really short time that didn't give Matt the time to react. He found himself completely unable to move a single muscle, he could feel Stick's face near to his own. He forced himself to relax and stop fighting his mentor. He knew it was useless, besides, that damn water was so cold he wished he could have a hot shower as soon as possible, and that wasn't going to happen if he kept rebelling.

-Good kid- Stick said when he felt Matt surrender, but he didn't leave him -Now listen to me. We've made an agreement you wanted, and which I am respecting. You'd better start doing your part or I'll make you. Understood?-

Foggy. Karen. Danger.

-Stay away from them- the lawyer's voice was dangerously cold and calm, the kind of voice that hides an alarming lever of anger.

-Then obey, boy- Stick finally let him go.

Matt rose to his feet again and without a word closed himself into the bathroom. He was trembling with a dangerous cocktail of cold, fear, and anger.

 

Two days had passed since he and Stick had left Hell's Kitchen.

Since then they'd had very little time to rest and he was beginning to feel really tired, his muscles got heavier hour by hour.

Matt had followed Stick in all his missions around all the New Jersey area, fighting under his orders without asking anything of him. He didn't really care. This wasn't his war. All he wanted was to finish the job and go back home.

The night before, they prevented a cargo ship that would had taken off with 40 young girls on board. There were 15 or maybe less; young, innocent children ready to be sent somewhere to be used as sex slaves. Their terror and desperation almost made Matt physically sick. While Stick was taking care of those responsible of that crime, he'd suddenly heard a scream.

He had run toward her, ignoring Stick commanding him to leave her. From the tone of her scream and her heartbeat, he'd felt she had to be at least 13, she was lying on the ground, surrounded by three man touching her and trying to wrest her clothes off.

The lawyer had heard her sobbing, fighting to avoid the violence with all her strength, but she was small.

And alone. Helpless.

Matt turned the water on and waited for it to becoming warm enough, then he let it flow over his tired body. He steadied himself on the wall, his eyes closed, while the hot water did its job. Slowly, he stopped shaking and somehow managed to relax.

-I'll give you the morning off- Stick said to him when he finally got out from the bathroom -We are leaving this city at 1 pm- Matt nodded.

He wasn't really happy about that. Having time to himself meant that he would have time to think about what he had left behind, and that wasn't good. He needed some fresh air. He dressed himself and took his cane, then he left the room he was sharing with Stick. This wasn't New York. He didn't even know the name of this town. Stick hadn't told him and he hadn't asked. Quite simply, he didn't care.

***

-Did he phone you?- Karen had started to ask the same damn question every morning since the day Matt had left.

Somehow, Foggy had managed to come up with a decent alibi for his friend's sudden absence.

He had told her Matt had called him while he was reaching his house, that he told him that a nurse from the orphanage was dying. She was one the few people who actually cared about him, so he'd left the town to visit her in Canada as soon as he received the phone call and he was going to stay with her until the end.

-Yeah- he lied (again).

-How is he?-

-You know him. He'd rather die than admit there was something wrong- he answered -I think he's handling the situation quite well. Maybe being Catholic is not so bad for him right now-

-Did you tell him that if he needs help he's just to call?-

-Of course I did. Now, let's get back to work. What do we have?- But Foggy didn't really listen Karen talking about the agenda of the day.

His thoughts were all about Matt since the day he hadn't found him at his place. He'd watched all the television news and tried to read everything he could on the internet, trying to find out something about them, but whatever he and Stick were doing, they'd kept a very low profile.

_Are you ok, buddy? Where are you?_


	5. Falses impressions don't speak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I've been busy!
> 
> Cookies, comments... everything will be appreciated!

-Kill him, kid! Come on!- Stick ordered in an angry voice.

It was the fourth or maybe fifth time that Stick had given him that order in the last 5 minutes, and, not for the first time since he'd been away from Hell's Kitchen, he'd been tempted to obey.

It was the middle of the night, as usual, and it was raining. They all were soaked and tired, tired of this terrible night and Matt himself was tired of everything. He was fighting for something he didn't believe in, following orders from a man who didn't respect the way he used to when he was a boy, who treated him like a kid every time the lawyer made a personal decision about how to face situations.

Stick used to beat him as he did in the past, except now Matt was an adult, so the punishments were pretty much harder and more painful than when he was nine years old.

The bruises on his body weren't only due to the fights, right now.

This "man" was responsible for the murders of five children; the oldest, 15 years old, the youngest, only 5. All of them were sons or nephews of some politician from New Jersey, who both the Yakuza and the Triad (if Stick wasn't lying to him this time) wanted to control to gain power on the drug market of the State. Matt could barely think someone could be so cruel to kill without a real reason. They could have kidnapped these kids and blackmailed their fathers. No. They murdered them.

-Kill him! Now!- Stick's voice brought him back to reality.

This horrible man was completely in their power, in his power, actually; Matt was blocking him in a deadly grip, of a kind Stick had taught to him. He could end this person's life with only one, simple gesture, and he was really fighting with his own conscience to not follow his instinct, this time stronger than ever.

The idea of those children, killed by this guy's hands, was stuck in his mind, and it would be so easy to put an end to all this horror with a single movement of his arms.

_You promised, Matthew_. Foggy's voice echoed in his head. _You are not crossing that line. There's the police for this. You are not God._

He stopped a moment before going through with the fatal gesture. Unfortunately, Stick didn't have his same sense of justice.

-Don't move!- He heard, at the same time as Stick said those words, the hiss of the arrow he'd loosed from his bow. He could do nothing but feel it hitting the man's throat. Stick knew very well that he would have done everything possible to save his prisoner's life, that's why he had spoken only after releasing the arrow. _Dammit,_ was all he could think. The man died a minute later.

Matt felt sick and he suddenly dropped the body he was still holding in his arms, only to turn the other way and throw up the pizza he had for dinner. It was too much for him to handle.

This was not justice.

Stick didn't give him time to regain control of his stomach. He basically took him by the arm and carried him away roughly.

The young lawyer could hear the police coming, and he realized they would soon find the five bodies of the children and the ones of the guilty. The accomplices were knocked out, and the officers would also find and send the young men to jail.

Matt wasn't really stable on his feet, so he let Stick drag him to their house in that town.

-You stupid, useless kid!- Stick rebuked him, throwing him away across the room. Matt knocked against the corner of the wardrobe with a groan of pain. He'd been hit during the mission, so the pain was even worse.

He was still feeling nauseous, his stomach was aching, and he was trembling with cold, but he knew what was coming.

He had felt his mentor's anger during their journey home, barely restrained under the mask of a good dad helping his sick child. Now they were alone, no one would see them, and he was going to release all his built-up rage. Matt prepared himself for the punishment.

Stick caught him with a kick, right where the center of most of his pain was. The shot was really bad, and it made Matt cry out. That didn't stop the old man, who kept beating him until the young man was at his limit.

-Get up!-

Matt tried to obey, but he simply couldn't, his body too weak to respond. He tried to lift with his shaking arms, but they failed him, and he fell on the floor again.

Stick hit him again.

-Get up!-

He failed a second time. Another rap reached his chest, he felt his body lift and roll on the ground. Now he was on his back, his hands on his stomach trying to protect himself.

-Get up!-

The lawyer shook his head, then he laid it on the ground, unable to move. Stick thumped him again and again and after every blow he repeated him the order. When he was tired of using his hands and feet, he began to hit him with his cane. Matt stopped even to try to protect himself.

The older man stopped only when Matt couldn't even moan anymore.

-The next time you don't carry out my orders, you will regret, kid.- He promised, then he left the young man lying on the floor, barely able to breathe.

Matt didn't answer. He coughed weakly a couple of times, and he tasted the metallic tang of blood while it spilled out from his mouth, then everything went black.

* * *

The young woman was going to the supermarket when she saw him.

_That's impossible_. She told herself. _He's just a man wearing sunglasses. That's not him. Stop seeing him in every man you meet. He is in New York where you left him_.

But she couldn't avoid staring at that boy. That walk, the way he was limping, as if he was in considerable pain. She couldn't see his face and he wasn't carrying any cane with him, so she couldn't be sure. From behind, that guy totally looked like Matt. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a navy bomber.

With that outfit, sunglasses and without his cane, he looked just like any regular guy. Of course, she knew Matt used to act like any regular blind man, but she was sure that if he wanted, he could hide his disability because of his superpower.

She'd never seen him dressed like that. When he was at home, he used to wear sweatpants and t-shirt, and when he was out he usually wore his suits; black pants and jackets, white shirt and tie.

She tried to remember if she had ever seen jeans or that kind of coat in his wardrobe, but she couldn't.

The man entered in the small church in front of her.

She decided to go with her instinct and follow him.

* * *

When he returned to life, he could feel the warmth of the sun hitting his face. He was still in his black suit, lying on the floor where he'd passed out after Stick's treatment. His clothes were still wet, and he was shivering, frozen down to his bones.

He tried to move, when a rush of soreness caught him, making him almost cry out. Matt decided to move very slowly. He had to rise, to take care of his injuries and manage to put on some dry clothes.

It turned out that the only thing he could do was the first one, and not without some difficulties.

His chest ached like hell, mostly where Stick had hit him the night before. When he finally managed to sit down, the world of fire began to spin, almost making him vomit again.

Somehow, he could stand up, grabbing the table to not fall down. He took some deep breaths to calm down and hauled himself to the couch to think.

He was reaching the limit.

Stick had no mercy at all, and every night Matt was forced to watch people die, and they weren't always guilty. His former mentor had the very deplorable habit of killing whoever saw them.

He had discovered, some days afterwards, that he'd killed the young girl Matt had saved the first week of their new forced partnership. He couldn't do or say anything about that. He was too cowardly, too afraid for his family's safety to dare face Stick, and beyond that, it was too late. She was already gone.

This situation was killing him from the inside.

Being Daredevil could be difficult sometimes; he had seen lots of terrible things in his crusade against Fisk.

He had thought to have seen the worst with the Chinese who were blinded for their work with pure drugs, but what Stick had done this time was even worse, because it was done without reason.

When he first met Claire, he said to his prisoner he enjoyed hurting people, but they were just words, he wanted to scare him to force him to obey. Stick actually had fun when he was torturing someone, Matt could smell, hear and feel his satisfaction, and that was terrible.

Even punishing him didn't really make much sense. He was a man now, and he was used to beatings, he wasn't scared by blows and he wouldn't change his stance on killing because of some knocks.

Stick didn't do that to punish him, no; it was his way to relax.

Matt wasn't really happy about it, but if he didn't submit, the next punch bag could be Foggy.

He needed to get out, to take a breath of fresh air.

That was easier said than done.

He tried to change his clothes, but he barely could walk, and the black mask suit he was wearing was so wet that the cotton of the light, black sweater was clinging to him, and when he'd tried to pull it off, the world around him began to spin again and he'd almost fallen down.

Somehow he managed to change his trousers for a pair of jeans he had bought a day or so before. He didn't like wearing them very much, his skin (made more sensitive because of the accident that took his sight away) always had a sort of allergic reaction, but he couldn't find anything better, at least not with the money he had with him, anyway.

He covered the sweater with a jacket and went out, without bothering to check for Stick. If he was at home, he was probably sleeping, or meditating. If he was out... well, Matt really didn't care.

After half an hour, he finally reached a church. He didn't know where he was exactly, maybe Boston, but he wasn't sure and he couldn't walk for too long, so he had taken a cab that left him half a mile away from a church settled in a pedestrian zone. He had spent half of the small amount he had left. He didn't care. He needed to stay alone for a while, in a safe place, where even Stick would not dare to hurt him. He felt sick only thinking about the distance, but he needed somewhere to confess.

Well, not exactly.

What he'd really wanted was to go back to Hell's Kitchen even just for a minute. Check if Foggy, Karen and everyone he cared about was ok and breathe his polluted air, smelling the mixture of stinks and perfumes typical of his neighborhood.

He wanted to go home.  
While he was slowly walking toward the church, lost in his thoughts about home, for a while he considered to buy a burner and call Foggy, even to listen his voicemail. He needed to hear the familiar voice of his partner. His friend would probably curse him even in punjabi, but he wouldn't care, he knew that despite everything, Foggy would be happy too.  
He was starting doing calculations about how much that would cost, when he suddenly was afraid. Matt was reaching his limit, his nostalgia was stronger than ever. Probably the last time he felt like that was after his father's funeral.

He understood that if he had called Foggy, that could mean his final collapse. He would not manage to keep going on. So, for once, he chose the easy way, the selfish one, and he pushed the idea back.

When he entered the church, he could smell the familiar scent of incense and burning candles.

That gave him the illusion of being at home, that Father Lantom would approach him with a smile, ready to offer him a latte, the consolation of a confession, and the thing that was most important to Matt; the word of a friend.

He felt his eyes becoming full with tears, but somehow he could hold on, somehow. He knew that there was nothing wrong in crying, but if he surrendered now, desperation would overcome him and destroy all his strength.

Approaching the altar, he sat himself on a pew, unable to stand for even a second longer. He felt pain in every muscle he could and couldn't feel. The wood was warm and reassuring to his touch.

He closed his eyes, thinking about home, about Claire taking care of him every time he needed, even when he didn't deserve it.

If he focused enough, he almost could smell Claire's perfume as if she were right next to him; he imagined hearing her light steps while she was in his apartment. He could almost physically feel her hand catching his gently and he couldn't avoid thinking about how strange the human heart could be. Of all the people he loved, he was thinking about the one he knew for sure he had lost, maybe forever. He had screwed everything up with her, and she had made very clear that she would only be his nurse when he needed her, nothing more, and listening to her heartbeat he had heard she meant it.

He felt so homesick that his brain was making a perfect image of the girl approaching him and touching his hand. Nostalgia worked in a very strange way, making the unreal real.

-Matt...-

Wait... false impressions didn't speak, did they?

* * *

She entered the church some seconds after him, but she didn't face him directly. She wanted to be sure, so she walked through the aisle, at his left. She watched him sitting and a few steps later she was finally able to see his face.

_Oh my God. It's him._

And...were those tears?

_Matt…_

No matter what happened (or more accurately, not happened) between them, she had regretted her own words as soon as she had time for thinking about them. She had left New York with a heavy heart, fearing that what she had told him could lead Matt to do something stupid. Now he was here, sitting in some kind of physical and psychological pain, and, despite everything, she couldn't leave him alone.

Claire turned back and slowly she sat next to him, alarmed by his lack of reaction. She knew he could hear sounds and smells literally some blocks away, and she had no doubt he'd heard her moves or her perfume. Why wasn't he reacting? Don't be stupid, do you really think he could remember it?

_What's wrong with you, Matt?_

She slowly slid nearer to him, until she could take his hand, gently, without abrupt movements.

-Matt...- she whispered when he didn't react even to that. -Matt, what's wrong?-

* * *

-Matt, what's wrong?-

He opened his eyes, a pretty useless gesture considering he couldn't see, but the voice seemed so real that he instinctively looked at her, as if he could actually see her face and be sure she wasn't a dream.

He turned towards the whisper with a start. Her perfume, the softness of her touch, the kindness in her voice. The unique rhythm of her heart, which he'd memorized, all forming a rough shape made of flames in his mind. Her face didn't have defined features but he knew her immediately. _Claire._

She was real.

She was here.

_No. No._

* * *

He'd recognized her. She had seen him relax for a second after she'd spoken, but then he'd suddenly pushed her away as if she were the enemy.

-Matt- she whispered, grabbing his arms -Matt. It's me. It's Claire-

-No. No- he was trying to break himself free from her hold. She wasn't so strong, but he didn't manage to get loose, even if she wasn't really fighting to keep him.

-Matt. Matt, please. Calm down-

-Go away, Claire. Stay away from me- his voice was so low and desperate she barely could understand what he was trying to say. -Stay...away. Please, Claire, please-

As a reaction, Claire let go of his arms only to hold him tight, ignoring his words and his attempts to push her away from him. He was trembling, and soon he stopped to fight, losing himself in her hug. He began to sob, then he burst into desperate tears.

-Matt...- she whispered his name, hugging him tighter. She let him hide his face in the socket of her neck, his tears were dampening her t-shirt, but she didn't care. She'd never seen the Devil of Hell's Kitchen like this before, and it was something she had never thought could happen.

-Matt...- she repeated quietly, trying to make her voice sound soft and sweet, as if she was comforting a frightened child. -Ssh...it's ok, Matt. Everything is gonna be fine. I'm with you. I'm here...-

* * *

Matt really wanted to stop crying like a baby.

Matt really wanted to push her away.

Matt really wanted to keep her out of danger.

But all he could do was stay in her embrace, let her hold him tight, listen to her heart beating under her t-shirt and to her soft voice whispering reassuring words into his ear, smell her perfume. She _smelled like_ home.

She _was_ home.

Slowly, he tried to control his emotions. His sobs began to slow down and somehow he stopped crying, even if he couldn't quite hold back all of his tears. He raised his head and freed himself.

-Are you ok?- she whispered, her voice revealing how worried she was about his emotive collapse, but also relieved now that he was himself again.

He nodded.

Wrong move.

His head began to spin, and, once again he could barely hold back the nausea.

-Whoa. Easy, Matt. Easy- her voice was the sweetest sound in the world.

She grabbed him by the shoulders and helped him lay down on the pew, his head resting on his legs. She unzipped his jacket to let him breathe easily...and she found the wet black sweater.

Again, he tried to revolt against her, but she ignored him.

-God, Matt. You're soaked! Are you trying to get sick? Let's get out of here. You need help-

-No... No, Claire. You have to to...stay away...from me. He's gonna hurt you-

-Who?-

-We... we made a deal... I... I have to... obey... Foggy... - he started saying disconnected words. He wanted to say so many things that everything was getting confused inside. His head kept spinning, he felt as though he were losing consciousness and he fought to stay awake.

He needed air.

He'd wanted to go home.

He'd wanted to stay in her arms forever.

-Matt. Matt. Listen to my voice. Focus on me, can you do that?- Claire's voice was still low and sweet, but now there was a point of roughness in it, something that forced him to listen to her. -Matt. Focus. On. Me.-

He lifted his head toward the direction of her voice, where he knew her eyes were. He heard her take the glasses from his face and gently dry his tears. He was nearly calm right now, even if he was still shaking like a leaf.

-Matt...-

-Claire... please. Go away- he begged.

-Not a chance-

-If he...-

-We'll figure out something, like... -she tried to think of something credible -you were here and you passed out, so I took you to the ER and then to my place-

-He... knows...your perfume. He smelled it... in my home-

-Then I'll change it- she resolved. -Now we are taking a cab, you'll calm down and let me help you, ok?-

-What if I say no?-

-I'll call 911- and to prove that she took her phone from the pocket of her trousers out and started the call, knowing perfectly well Matt would hear everything.

He was still, as if he'd known she would never do that for real, but he suddenly grabbed her arm when the operator answered and she began to talk.

-No. No, please- He begged.

She put the call on stand-by mode.

-Then you do as I say-

Matt was defeated. He nodded. She hung up the phone and led him to her place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!


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